


We'll Never Be Free Until We End Slavery

by Isaac_Potato



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, But again not graphic, Drugs, Happy in the middle, I'm Sorry, I've sinned, Multi, Prostitution, Self-Harm, Sex Slavery, Stockholm Syndrome, but not really, forgive me lin, its not graphic, kind of violent?, sort of rape, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-11-04 15:35:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10993839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isaac_Potato/pseuds/Isaac_Potato
Summary: John Laurens was taken. George Washington saves people. King George is a pimp. This is the most least historically accurate story you'll ever read.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I'm not good at summaries, but just read this chapter and you'll get it, and you'll either love it or hate it and that's fine. Also HUGE TRIGGER WARNING because it's not graphic, but rape and abuse are implied, and the main character has Stockholm Syndrome for the first few chapters. Also there's sort of mentions of self harm and purging but it's not really that bad and they happen once, briefly. I'm writing this to see how many people will read it. I'm also bored.

John limped up the stairs, tears springing into his eyes as the roughness of his last client became more apparent. He shakingly took his keys out of his pocket and jammed them into the door. He just wanted to curl up in an oversized hoodie and sleep, get off his feet and let his muscles relax. But, as he opened the door, he realized quickly that his plans weren’t going to go his way.

Charles Lee, his boss, boyfriend type person, whatever you wanted to call him, was sitting in the corner of the small apartment they both lived in, smoke coming from what John could only pray was a cigarette, because he couldn’t deal with Lee right now. Couldn’t deal with what he would do because he could barely walk as it is and Lee was always rough and…

“Awe, Johnny. Welcome home, baby.” Lee said and stood, staggering a bit and knocking over one of the many beer bottles that litter the floor.

John was pushed and shoved in what he assumed was supposed to be a loving way but he really couldn’t tell when Lee was like this, over to the couch. All he could think when he was getting undressed by Lee was ‘I could’ve avoided all of this…’

Lee worked for… Well, John actually didn’t know who he worked for, just that he referred to him as “the King.” It was a very intricate circuit and John would never know the depth of it, he was barely a worker. Lee was given many people from the King, most of them girls. Girls always brought in more money. The King had people he would send to… “retrieve” people to sell to the people who worked for him.

The King’s people took John one night. August 23. Not like John’s been counting. They said that he owed Lee. John didn’t know who that was until he came face to face with the man he supposedly “owed.”

His parents owned a small business, a little shop place, it didn’t get a lot of business but it paid the bills. They lived upstairs, and it always smelled like fresh baked cookies. His mom was always baking something. They always tasted so good.

Lee entered the shop one day, walked up to the counter, and smiled. John was alone that day, his parents off visiting some friends. Charles asked for a pack of cigarettes. Marlboro. John got him some, asked for ID, and then watched as he walked around the store. It was weird, usually people didn’t buy cigarettes until they were done shopping. He chose a bottle of iced tea from the freezers and then took a bag of chips and went to the door. John spoke up- You have to pay for that- and Lee walked back to the counter. He dropped a 20 on the counter and as John was opening the cash register, he suddenly felt something wet on his face. Lee had spit on him. John looked at him, breathed, tried not to punch the guy, wiped his face, and rung up Lee’s stuff. That’s when Lee started talking. “You know, I don’t even think my money can keep this dump open. I’m surprised you’re still running. I would’ve called the health department and filed a complaint.” And he just. Kept. Going.

John wasn’t necessarily short-tempered, but he was having a stressful day, and this guy was a dick, and he knew the shop wasn’t much, but dammit, it’s all he has. It’s all he’s known, his whole life. And his parents spent a fortune to keep it going, to open it up, to do everything, and he’ll be damned if he was going to let someone say shit about it. So, he punched the guy. It was hard to do, over the counter, but he managed, and the guy’s nose started bleeding so he thought it a success. He shoved Lee’s change and items at him and spat “Have a good day, sir.”

And then that was the night his life changed. And if he just kept his head down and didn’t lose his cool, but the camera in the back of the store stopped working, and they ran out of hot water in the house and he cracked his phone by falling down the concrete stairs that led to the store and his parents weren’t answering his calls and the only thing they said to him that whole day was “We’re gonna be late.” So this guy was talking shit and he taught him his place. And then got taught his.

He’s staring at the ceiling now, chest bare, but in a loose pair of pants. His hips and back were on fire. He looked up at Lee’s bed from the mattress he slept on. Sometimes Lee let him sleep on his bed, let him curl up at his side. But not tonight. Lee wasn’t as kind when he drank. John felt tears pricking his eyes again and sniffled. He missed his parents. It’s March 31. He hasn’t talked to them since the day he was taken, and even that was just a “Goodnight, I love you.”

He turned onto his side.

He wants to leave, and he technically can, but a girl left once, and not even a week later her and her immediate family were on the news. Murdered. No one knew who did it. She had a one year old sister.

He was scared, and so never left. And never will. It’s not about his safety anymore. It’s about his parents’.

His stomach growled. Lee doesn’t always let him eat. He dropped from 150 pounds to 110. You could see his ribs, sort of, but his clients likes it.

That was another thing, the clients. He was sold to them, something like $3k to $4k a night and $444 an hour. He would’ve been around $1k, but Lee liked him. He was Lee’s favorite. That’s why they lived together. The people who bought him were mostly rich white guys who lived uptown, who were CEOs or in government positions whose wives and children were out of town. They’d buy, and they’d be able to do whatever they wanted to him. Whatever. Anything. Sometimes it wasn’t too bad, John would just go down on them and be done, collect the money and catch a cab back home. Sometimes it was sex, quick, hushed and only an hour or two. Other times it wasn’t so nice, it was rough and the men took out all their frustrations on him, or they’d live out fantasies, or they were just rough for the simple fact John couldn’t complain. And, besides, why be careful with someone else’s property.

Property.

That word popped up in John’s head a lot. Was that all he was now? Property. He was taken by the King, sold to Lee, who sold him to other people, who treated him like he didn’t have emotions, like he couldn’t feel what they did to him, like he was an object. Property.

He stopped crying, learned to live with it. If he cried he was hit. But, then again, he was hit sometimes even if he didn’t cry. He wore makeup, covered the bruises from nights when Lee had a little too much to drink. No one knew. He didn’t really go out in public a lot anymore, they couldn’t risk him being noticed and recognized. Only to a cab, house, cab, house repeat.

It wasn’t all bad with Lee. It could be worse. He heard stories of one of the people who directly worked for the King. James Reynolds. He apparently used a whip.

So, yeah, he could live with Lee. At least, for as long as he could actually live.

He heard shouts outside, another rally of protesters. There were usually small rallies, standing outside the houses owned by the workers. They yelled about how this was inhuman and horrible. It was always late at night, always in the dark, they wouldn’t let the workers sleep. Sometimes John wished they would leave, they would wake up Lee, he’d take out his anger on John. Other nights, like tonight, John could creep up to the window and stare out of a crack in the boards covering it and watch. Silently cheer them on. The cops wouldn’t investigate because they bought from the workers and why stop something that was so good.

John slid off his mattress, crawling cautiously on his knees over to the window. His knees were crying out in pain, he’d been on them for hours already tonight, but he ignored them, he had to look outside. He usually couldn’t see anyone’s faces, as they were always faced towards the speaker, away from him. Even the speaker’s face was hidden by a large megaphone.

Tonight was different though. There were two people towards the back of the crowd, facing away from the speaker and talking to each other. John tried to focus on their features, see if he could recognize them, if they were workers. One of them had his hair pulled back, kind of like how John usually wears his. The other had broad shoulders and some sort of fabric tied around his forehead. John kept staring at them, the fact they weren’t screaming intriguing him. Then, he found out why.

They were looking at him.

John gasped and stumbled back. He landed on his backside, almost crying out in pain, but bit his hand to keep it in. They couldn’t have been looking at him, they couldn’t see him through the windows. Unless they knew he was there. That he was watching the rally as Lee was so drunk the screams were barely making him stir. There was no way. It wasn’t possible. He swallowed thickly and shuffled around so he could look back out the window, slowly. They were gone. Like they were never even there.

John took a deep breath and laid back down, willing his heart to calm down. They were just people who were at the rally. John was just tired. He had a long day. He had a lot of clients tomorrow and he needed sleep, not worries about two people who may have been looking at him.  
\--------------  
For the next few weeks, he started to notice more and more people looking at him, and when he looked back, they’d be gone. It wasn’t just the two guys from the rally anymore, sometimes there were girls. The one he sees the most has black hair, always tied back. Another had lighter hair that was always loose on her shoulders. There were other guys, too, but he couldn’t always see features, they were always gone too quick.

Lee’s gotten worse as well. He was getting rougher with beatings and… Other things.

John wasn’t supposed to get tattoos, the clients might not like it, but when he was first sold to Lee, he got a sort of brand on the left side of his ribs, not big, but not small enough to the point you couldn’t see it. Clients usually didn’t see it, didn’t lift his shirt high enough. If they did see it, they usually ignored it. Lee’s been focusing on it, spitting out what it says before hitting it with a riding crop, or belt, whenever John stepped out of line in his eyes. And it may be months old, but it hurt, and the sharp blows would make it bleed. Lee would lean close to his face, whisper into his ear, “Mine,” and he’d be telling the truth.

The tattoo, was beautiful, which was ironic, because the message made John want to throw up. “Property of Charles Lee.” It was written in an elegant black script and John would like it, if it said anything else. Anything.

Lee would get close to his ear, buried deep inside his burning body, he would whisper. “You’re mine. No one else would want you, especially when they find out what you do. I’m the only person who will ever treat you right, treat you the way you deserve to be treated. You’re a slut. Who’d love a slut?” He’s been saying it for months, and the thing is, John started to believe him a long time ago.

There was a name for that, wasn’t there? Wanting to protect the person who kept you locked up and took away your freedom? If John was being honest, he didn’t want to leave, he had nowhere to go, no one who would take him. His own parents would probably turn him away if he showed back up. And besides, John can’t paint Lee as a completely horrible person. Sometimes he put on movies, let John curl his sore body on his lap, let him have a bowl or two of ice cream, kissed the top of his head lovingly as he drifted off to sleep. Lee did love him, he just got a little rough sometimes. Yeah, it scared John, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t learn to love Lee back. So, no, why would he leave? Why would he complain when Lee hit him? Why would he let anyone else call him theirs? Lee was fine. Lee was perfect, he just had off days, and who didn’t?

Stockholm Syndrome.  
\---------------  
He staggered out of the cab, running up the stairs, ignoring the pain and throwing open the door. He let the tears run freely down his face, not caring what Lee would do if he saw. His client. He was horrible.

John’s had bad clients, rough clients, clients that hit or called him degrading things just for the hell of it, but this has never happened. This guy was crazy. These guys, that’s more appropriate. One guy bought him, and should have said if there was more than one person so the person he bought can prepare. He didn’t. John wasn’t prepared. There were 6 or 7 guys. He lost count. It was painful. He was in so much pain.

He limped to the kitchen and called Lee’s name. No one responded. He tried again. Same thing. He sighed and leaned on the table. He looked and saw powder. Lee promised he would stop with the cocaine, stick to weed, stop it for John. John didn’t know why he thought that would last. He never did drugs. It was the one thing he didn’t fall into after he was taken. Lee said it numbed pain, he should try it. He said no.

What if it was true? John was in so much pain. He should try it. He should see if it worked.

He took the rolled up dollar bills and the credit card that Lee had also left out and looked at the lines. How do you do it? Do you just sniff? Does it hurt? He leaned close to the table and stared at the powder, but it stared back more intensely, like two wolves meeting in the middle of a dark forest. He put the money between his nose and the drugs and sniffed. Hard. It hurt. He didn’t do a lot, but then he went back, put the money in between himself and the apparent pain reliever and sniffed again. This time an entire line. He pulled his head up fast and got light headed.

He limped to the counter, not knowing when the drugs would take effect, but it wasn’t happening fast enough, so he grabbed the vodka Lee always left out. This he’s had. He’s not 21 yet, only 20, but when he first got here Lee gave him some. He was only 19. He spent his birthday with Lee, he drank more vodka. He drank it now. Practically downed it. Like it was water.

The effects of both substances hit him at the same time. It was horrifying. He thought he was dying. He couldn’t breathe, the walls were closing in on him. He had to get out. He stumbled out the door and down the steps. He breathed in the fresh air and walked, getting far from the house with the moving walls. He vaguely realized people staring, probably judging how bad he holds his drugs, because in all honesty this is pathetic. He fell into the corner of a building, turned away from the street, and puked. He kept walking.

His body felt heavy, like his torso was made of led. He stumbled, tripped and fell into something warm. A person.

The last thing he registered was a person with a French accent saying, “You’ll be okay now, John Laurens,” Before everything went black.


	2. Chapter 1

The first thing John noticed when he woke up was how thirsty he was. Then how hungry he was. Then how his whole body felt like it was on fire. He turned on his side and was hit with a wave of nausea. He opened his eyes, determined to run to the bathroom and puke his brains out, when he realized something that made all thoughts of going to the bathroom leave his mind.

He had no idea where he was.

The room was kind of big, the walls were a soft tan color, and the only light in the room was the soft glow from a dim lamp. It was nice, but very different from his and Lee’s studio apartment, where the wallpaper was peeling and the lights were always blaring. He shot up, crying out at the pain that was sent through his body. He moved to the door, ignoring the fact that he was in new clothes that were too big on him. He opened the door and heard voices down the hallway. He followed them to a door that was slightly ajar, revealing a place that looked a bit like a living room mixed with a kitchen. The people had their backs to him, and he quickly noted the door was on the other side of the room. 

John got scared. What were the people going to do to him? Did they take him, or did Lee sell him to them? That thought made his stomach drop. Had he made Lee angry? What did he do wrong? And then two people walked in, and the feeling of nausea returned at full force. It was the two people who have been watching him.

He backed into the hallway again. He covered his mouth and looked down, finally noticing his new clothes. Had they changed his clothes? Why? He leaned close to the door and listened.

“I still can’t believe you took him here. We were only supposed to keep an eye on him until Washington told us to do something. He’s gonna be pissed.” Said a female voice.

“What did you want me to do? Let him die in the streets? He was strung out and so drunk he could barely walk. I’m surprised he is even up right now.” The person with the French accent said. And now’s when he throws up.

There’s a shuffle of feet and then the door burst open. He looked at them, they looked back at him, then the girl with the black hair turned to the guy who had his hair pulled back and said, “You can clean it up.”  
\----------  
John sat at their kitchen table, his knees pulled against his chest and his hands wrapped around a mug filled with coffee. They had forced two bottles of water and two advils down his throat before finally giving it to him. He found out the girl was named Eliza and the guy was Lafayette, and then the two other girls were Angelica and Peggy, and the guy that was always with Lafayette was Hercules. 

He was sitting across from Peggy, a girl that looked younger than all of them. Granted, he looked like the oldest, except for Hercules. Hercules and Lafayette stepped out of the room a little bit ago, and Eliza and Angelica were watching John.

It was awkward, to say the least. He wanted to go back to Lee, but didn’t know if he could ask them. He missed Lee, would take him any way he could get him right now, drunk, sober, mad, happy, it didn’t matter. He wanted to go home.

Lafayette walked back in, whispered something to Eliza, who’s eyes widened before she nodded. Lafayette left again, followed by Eliza this time. John somehow felt uncomfortable with just Angelica and Peggy. 

He cleared his throat and looked back at Angelica. She looked at him with soft eyes, and he almost cried. No one’s looked at him like that for a long time. At the same time, he didn’t like the pity that he saw in her eyes. “Uh… When can I go home?” He asked her. He just now realized how hoarse his voice sounded.

“Like… To your parents’?” She asked and he hesitantly shook his head. 

“To Lee?” He asked. A million emotions ran across Angelica’s face, igniting her eyes and prying her closed mouth open. Before she could answer, though, Hercules walked in.

“Alexander is here.” He told her. “Washington is coming soon.” He looked at everyone’s somber expressions, and confusion spread across his face, but didn’t question it, because who’d be happy in this situation. 

Hercules didn’t talk a lot, that was actually the first time John had heard his voice. It was deep, yet soft, like a biker who gets in bar fights but saves puppies in his free time.

The door opened and Lafayette and Eliza walked in, followed by a guy with long hair, pulled out of his face by a ponytail. He was… Attractive, John noticed and he couldn’t help but look.

“Alex, I, uh…” Angelica said, glancing at John and then pulling the guy, Alex, to the other side of the couch in the living room area. They talked quietly, occasionally glancing back at John. 

John looked down at his coffee, sipping it, and then grimacing at the fact it had gotten cold. He put his mug on the table and started picking at his fingernails. Angelica and Alex came back over to the kitchen, and Alex sat in the chair beside John.

He smiled at him softly and John almost threw something. Why did these people keep looking at him like that? Why were they so secretive? Why was he there? Who was Washington?

“Hey, John. I’m Alex. Can we talk over there for a second?” John looked at the living room area and then, for a reason he didn’t know, glanced at Peggy. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. Why? Was it because he asked to go back to Lee? Why would she be sad about that?

John looked back at Alex and nodded, letting him lead him over to the couch. This day has been so weird and long, and the pain in his muscles had finally settled in and walking was like being stabbed by 100 knives all over his body simultaneously. 

“Angelica said you want to go back to Lee. Is that true?” John sniffed and nodded, feeling like he was a child being reprimanded. “Why?” He asked. Something told John that Alex was just asking to see if John knew why he wanted to go back, and he knew the exact reason. “Because you can go back, no one is stopping you. I was just curious.”

“Because I love him. It’s a lot better than being here, with you people. You abducted me, and you’re acting like it’s normal, like I would be completely okay with this.” Someone walked inside, and the people in the kitchen smiled. John looked over and saw a tall, bald man. He said something, and the entire kitchen looked over at John. He turned red and turned back to look at Alex.

“You love him?” He asked, like he didn’t believe him.

“Yes.” John answered. The tall man walked over the the living room, and Alex gave him one last look before walking into the kitchen. The man took his spot, and he smiled at John. It wasn’t like the others, it wasn’t pitiful. It was like they were strangers who met at a park.

“Hey, John. I’m sorry for all of this, I know how overwhelming it can be, sometimes they don’t know what’s best.” He held out his hand. “I’m George, but they all call me Washington.” John looked at his hand, before slowly reaching out to shake it. It was nice, soft. “I have some things to tell you. Are you okay with that?” He asked and John nodded against his better judgement. “Alright, well, the reason I had them all watch you was so I could make sure you were okay. I saved them all, from the King.” John’s eyes widened and he looked over at the group in the kitchen. They looked happy together, like they were a family, and John couldn’t believe what he was hearing from Washington. Peggy looked like she was the youngest, and she even looked 15 or 16. And Hercules couldn’t be that old either. “I know. But it’s true.” Washington said, almost like he could read John’s thoughts. “Now, I’m not stopping you from going back to Lee, I gave them all the option to go back to their… Employers. But, there’s something you need to know before you make your decision.”

John’s heart started racing. What did he need to know?

“Lee got shot. In the side.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this while singing Hamilton at the top of my lungs while my sister tried to drown me out with country music so I'm sorry that it's not like top notch quality.


	3. Chapter 2

John’s world stopped. He couldn’t breathe. He was vaguely aware that Washington was talking to him, but but he couldn’t tell what he was saying. He didn’t know what to think. Should he believe him? What if he was just saying that so John wouldn’t go back? He did say he wouldn’t stop John, but he could have been lying. 

“I want to see him.” John said, cutting off whatever Washington was saying. Everyone looked at him like he had ten heads, but he didn’t care. He felt like his lungs were collapsing. Nobody was moving. John was getting annoyed. “I want to see him.” He said again, louder this time. Still, nobody moved. John huffed and looked into the kitchen, locking eyes with Alex. He knew John loved Lee. He should do something. Get them to let John see him. He didn’t do anything. John looked back at Washington. “Is he dead?” John asked, his voice breaking at the thought that this could be a possibility. That this could be the reason they won’t bring him to Lee. 

“No, he’s in the hospital.” Washington answered.

“Then why can’t I see him?” John demanded. What was wrong with these people? Who would stop a person from someone they who’s in the hospital because they got shot? 

It took a few minutes, but eventually Washington sighed and scratched the back of his head. “Alright… Alright, I’ll bring you to the hospital.” Washington told him, and he smiled for the first time that day. The people in the kitchen looked confused, but again, John didn’t care. He was going to see Lee. “Eliza, watch Lafayette. Make sure he doesn’t bring anyone else home.” Washington smiled, but there was an authoritative tone to his voice that made John think he was only half joking.  
\-------------  
The cab ride to the hospital was awkward, Washington kept looking over at him like he wanted to say something, before sighing and facing forward again. They finally got to the hospital and Washington paid the driver before they both exited the vehicle.

They were walking up to the door together, and John was inwardly happy that Washington was there. He’d gotten used to having someone with him all the time, and being alone would be weird. Well, that was nice. Until Washington stopped. John turned to him, confused. “I, uh, probably shouldn’t go in there with you. Lee and I, we know each other, and I don’t think he’ll be too happy that I’m here with you.” He told John. John swallowed a lump in his throat before nodding, and watched Washington sit at a bench next to the door. “Take all the time you need.”

“You’re waiting for me?” John asked.

“Well, someone has to be with you while Lee is in here.” Washington answered. John nodded and started to walk into the building, a million questions circling throughout his mind all at once. Why wouldn’t Lee be very happy to see Washington? Did Washington do something wrong? He did say that everyone in the house was saved from the King, was one of them from Lee?

He walked up to the receptionist’s desk and looked at the lady. She looked young, probably around her late 20s early 30s. She looked up at John and smiled. It’s the first contact with someone who wasn’t involved in the circuit, a client, or a group of people who abducted him in months. “Hello, darling. Who are you here to see?” 

John second guessed everything. What if she said he couldn’t see Lee? What if he had to be family? What if he wasn’t awake? He did just get shot… Well, there’s no turning back. “Uh… Ch-Charles Lee?” He said and the lady nodded, turning to press a few keys on her keyboard. 

“Charles Lee… Can I ask who you are to him?” She asked. John didn’t know how to respond. What was he to Lee? He knew the answer, but couldn’t tell the receptionist that. That would probably result in the cops being called and lawsuits and… 

“I’m his boyfriend.” He told her. She looked at him quizzically for a second then nodded, taking a sticker from a sheet and writing out something John couldn’t see because it was upside down.

“What’s your name, Dear?” She asked.

“Uh, John Laurens.” She wrote down more things and then handed him the sticker.

“He’s in room 28A, on the second floor.” She smiled and John nodded, turning to head towards the elevator. He looked at the sticker. “John Lawrence 28A”. He rolled his eyes.

The elevator was big, and had doors on both sides. It was fast too, but that was probably so doctors could get to patients faster. The elevator dinged when he reached the second floor and the doors behind him opened. He walked out and looked around. The hospital was like a maze, and he didn’t know which way to go. There were rooms on both sides of him and a desk in the center. He really didn’t want to go up to the desk, not wanting to sound stupid in asking for directions to a room, but as he would probably get lost, he had no choice. 

He approached the desk slowly, as one would approach an angry dog. The doctor at one of the front computers looked up and smiled at him. “Hello, how can I help you?” He asked softly.

John swallowed and said, “I’m, um, looking for room 28A…?” He answered.

The doctor pointed down the hallway to the left and said, “It’s that way, you’re gonna go to the right and it’s the second door on your left.” He said and smiled.

John nodded and silently thanked him, walking in the direction he told him to go. When he got to the room the door was closed, and John felt weird. This was weird. People in this line of work don’t go to see the people who sell them in the hospital after they get shot. They celebrate. Don’t they? John was always Lee’s favorite. He knew that was true. But nobody else loved their “employers,” as Washington put it. Even Alex looked at him weird after he said that he loved Lee. This wasn’t normal.

John opened the door.

He felt sick as he walked over to Lee’s bed, Lee focused on the TV. Something was wrong. Why did he feel this way? He loved Lee… Didn’t he? Did Lee like him? Does Lee care about him? Did John care about Lee? Should he care?

Lee looked over to see who walked into the room, and smiled when he saw John. He beckoned him closer, and John obeyed. He always does.

“Johnny, you came.” He said and John nodded. Lee grabbed his shirt up near his collar and brought him in for a kiss. John didn’t like it like he usually does. Does he usually like it?

“Yeah.” John faked a smile.

Lee tightened his grip on his shirt, pulling him closer, his eyes filled with anger. “I’ve been trying to call you. Why haven’t you answered?” Lee asked, his voice laced with fake sweetness.

“I… Um… I-I lost my ph-phone… At a client’s…” It didn’t feel right, lying to Lee. It felt dangerous. He was playing with life.

Lee laughed sarcastically. “Oh, Johnny, you’re so silly and so stupid. How could you lose your phone? I bought you that phone. You’re supposed to leave it at home.” Lee said, that same fake sweetness lacing his voice. He let go of John’s shirt and John backed off. Lee looked him up and down. “Where did you get those clothes?” He asked.

John’s heart stopped. “What?” He asked, voice strained.

“Don’t play dumb, Johnny, I’m not in the mood.” He said in a sing song voice. “Where did you get the fucking clothes.” He asked again, his voice harsher.

“Uh… I don’t… Um… Know… I mean…” John started mumbling and Lee’s eyes got even darker with rage.

He smacked his mouth. John almost cried out, but knew better.

“You answer me when I’m asking you a question. Where’d you get the damn clothes?” Lee couldn’t do much more than smack him, he’s too weak to punch. Even still, Lee smacks hard. John still didn’t answer, didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t say Washington, because he’d probably get his ass beat, if not by Lee, by someone who Lee pays to do it. But, then again if he doesn’t say anything, he’ll end up the same way. It’s lose-lose. Lee hit him again, harder, right on his temple, the heel of his palm connecting with it so hard John saw stars and his ears started to ring. 

Lee was yelling. Nurses came in. Did they know? Would they find out? Or would they assume it’s just this one argument? Just this one time? John didn’t care either way, he just walked out of the room. He couldn’t really hear anyone. He walked down the hallway and got on the elevator. He loved Lee, but maybe they should have some time apart. They should take a break. 

John should stay with Washington for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't the best but I wrote it after I took CDTs in school. Also, no, this isn't the end of Lee, just for right now John needs to leave him. Also, I won't be able to update this weekend because I have to see family and I really don't want to write this around them because there would be a lot of awkward questions.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one actually isn't as good as I wanted it to be, but I tried. It took a while because I didn't really know how to end it, which is why the ending is sort of rushed. I also didn't really proofread it.

PLEASE READ THE END NOTE

The ride back from the hospital was even more awkward than the ride there. John had told Washington a brief summary of what happened, keeping out some parts, and asked if he could stay with them for a while. He said yes. Why would he say no?

When they got to the house, John stopped before they walked up the stairs. He realized he was probably really ridiculous. Nobody loves the people who hurt them. Washington stopped next to him, turning to look at his face. “What will they think?” He asked, his voice small.

Washington sighed and sat down on the stairs, patting the spot next to him. John sat down. “Remember how I told you everyone in there was saved from the King and his workers?” John nodded, not quite sure how this related to him. “Well, Lafayette was the first. He was dating the man before he started working in the circuit, and he loved him. He didn’t care what anyone said. It took me almost a year to convince him to leave him. Hercules was next, and he was actually with a woman. It was his sister, actually. Step-sister, but still, sister. And he would do anything for her. It took a very long time to get him here, but I had Lafayette to help me. They’re very fond of each other, those two. Angelica and Eliza were actually the ones to approach me, them and Peggy are sisters, and they were sold by their parents to one of the workers. Peggy was very young at first, she was just 10. She was used to him, he was basically her parent, so, like Lafayette and Hercules, it took a while to convince her. She was 15 when they first came here. She’s 16 now.”

John let the information sink in. “You and Alex are special cases. Alex’s case is too complex, it’s not for you to know about just yet. And then you, you barely have a choice to be here. I’m sorry by the way. I wish things could be different.” John gave him a small smile. “See, none of them will judge you. They’ve been through this, been around it, for years. You’ve all got more in common than you think.” It took a few more minutes where they sat in silence for John to finally muster enough courage to go inside. 

As soon as the door opened they were greeted with laughter, everyone was in the living room. Lafayette was in Hercules’ lap on the far arm chair, Peggy had her legs across her sisters’ legs on the couch and Alex was curled up in a blanket on the chair closest to the door. They all smiled when they saw Washington walk in with John. Probably relieved John stayed. John didn’t know why. 

Tiredness was catching up with him, as was the hangover that has been hovering over his head since he woke up. It was only 7:00, but John just wanted sleep. It had been such a long day.

Washington must have sent this. He’s very good at reading people. He leaned down to John’s ear and said, quietly, “If you want to go to sleep I can find you some new clothes.” John nodded, grateful that Washington was there with him. 

Washington led him to the bathroom and told him to wait while he found some clothes that would fit. The door closed behind hi as he left and John sat on their toilet, his legs pulled against his thin torso, staring at the blue wall across from him. The bathroom was small, just a bathtub to his right and a sink to his left. 

What would Lee think if he found out John was here? He was so mad that John had clothes on that weren’t his, but Washington made it very clear that he and Lee did not like each other. What if Lee hated him? What if he stopped loving him? Wasn’t John supposed to stop loving him? He can’t breathe. The bathroom is really small. He stood up and went to the sink, grabbing at the side. He turned on the water. He didn’t know why. Probably for sound. He looked in the mirror.

There were dark circles under his eyes, they looked sunken in. His cheekbones were more prominent than he remembers. Was that just the lighting, casting shadows and making him look like a skeleton?

Last night was better. The drugs made him forget about Lee for a bit, even if it was just for a while before he blacked out. He needs more. Where can he get more? He pressed on the mirror and it sprang open. He was thankful the water covered the noises. He scanned the objects in the medicine cabinet and his eyes fell on a bottle of cough syrup. He heard Lee talking about how this stuff can get you high once. He reached his hand out to grab it, then stopped. This wasn’t his house. These people were nice enough to let him stay there while Lee was in the hospital. But, then again, they did sort of take him…

He took the syrup. 

He closed the cabinet just in time for Washington to knock on the door. “John? I got you some clothes.” Washington told him and John panicked, shoving the bottle in the back of his waistband in his pants so Washington wouldn’t see. He turned off the water and opened the door, keeping his back turned away from the door. Washington handed his a pile of folded clothes and smiled at him. “Uh, when you’re done, can we talk to you in the living room. I know you’re tired but It won’t take long.” John nodded and Washington nodded his head once at him before leaving. 

Now John was really panicking. 

How was he going to hide the bottle in front of all of them? He didn’t know if he was staying in the room he woke up in, so he couldn’t put it there. He took it and put it on the counter, quickly changing his clothes. The pants were a bit too big and they slid down his hips, but other than that he was comfortable. He tucked the bottle under his shirt by his armpit, and when he figured they wouldn’t see it, he left the bathroom. He walked slowly to the living room and sat on the couch toward the edge of the cushion. 

Washington smiled at him again and he smiled back, conscious of everyone looking at him. “Well, John, we just wanted to say sorry for how this all happened. We know it must be sort of scary, and just know that we never meant to hurt you. Lafayette was just nervous you’d get hurt if you were out on your own.” John nodded. He looked around the room and noticed that Alex was staring at him. He looked away, though, and John could swear he saw his cheeks turn pink. 

“It’s fine.” John said simply and there was an awkward silence before Washington stood and cleared his throat.

“Let me show your room.” Washington said.

They were walking out when he heard Peggy whisper, “Is he okay?”

Is he okay?

No.

He lead him to a room and opened the door for him. John sat on the bed with his arms crossed. “Can I get you anything?” Washington asked him.

“Do you have soda?” John asked him.

“Soda? I believe so. What kind?” He asked.

“Sprite.” John answered. Washington nodded and left, coming back a few minutes later with the clear drink. John accepted it, thanked him, and watched as he left, waiting for a bit so he knew he wouldn’t come back.

Was he really going to do this? This was crazy, wasn’t it? He took the bottle out from under his arm and looked at it. Cherry. His mom used to always buy him cherry cough syrup.

He undid the child safe lid and looked at it. He poured it in the soda until the liquid turned a soft bubble-gum pink color. Was that too much? Did John care? What could happen of you drink too much cough syrup? Could you slip into a coma? Could you die? John didn’t care. 

He drank it. 

His throat burned from the two liquids being combined. His body felt warm. He put the cup on the nightstand and the medicine in the drawer before laying down and staring at the ceiling.

What if this did kill him? What if they all come in in the morning and find John like this, dead from drinking cough syrup? They may not be his favorite people, but they’ve all had hard lives, John couldn’t do that to them. Peggy was 16.

The walls in this room were pretty, they were a soft blue. Or, were they purple? They could be pink? There were stickers on them, or was that just the wallpaper?

The cocaine made him hurt, made him feel sick, but now he felt like he was flying. Cough syrup is much more enjoyable. It tasted good too. Like cherry soda. Why didn’t everyone do this? He laid on his side and closed his eyes. 

He hopes Lee gets better soon.

He misses Lee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here it's going to get sort of graphic. Well, not really graphic, but there are going to be more things that will happen, so I really have to stress the Trigger Warning on this story. When I read fanfics that involve self harm, eating disorders, suicide attempts, etc etc, they don't really show the true horrors because nobody wants their favorite character/celebrity to stop being pretty. Self harm comes in more forms than cutting your wrists, eating disorders have more dynamics than just starving yourself and you don't just bounce back from suicide attempts because an attractive person kisses you. These things rope kids in, I know that when I was younger I was tricked into this stuff because it was glamorized, and I hate that young girls and boys are shown this stuff that are wrong with these characters but don't show everything related to them. They aren't told that when you starve yourself your skin and hair dry out, or that people who cut themselves can end up in the hospital very hurt (In extreme cases, not all.) and when I was younger and I did that stuff I realized what happened too late and by then I was too far in to stop. I know there are dangers to explaining everything that happens during this stuff, but that's why I'm saying if you don't think you can deal with this stuff then please, please stop reading. I don't want you to get hurt just because you want some angsty Lams. Now, this stuff won't last forever, but the drug using is going to have more than one occurrence throughout the story. If you can handle that stuff, great, I'll see you in the next chapter, but if you can't, please stop. If you ever need someone to talk, you can DM me on my cringy Instagram: got_that_art_


	5. Chapter 4

It's been a few weeks since John saw Lee in the hospital and it's killing him. It's also killing him that it's killing him. He needs to stop caring about him so much. He needs to forget about Lee right now, realize he's being taken care of by people who are better than Lee.

So, he started taking pills. 

They had the desired effect. He didn't think about Lee when he took enough of them. The only downside was "enough of them" made him so high he could barely stand up. Everyone in the house had an inkling of an idea what was happening. His eyes were more sunken and he was eating less than the little he was already eating.

He spent a lot of time on the fire escape that was outside of his window. He would sleep all day then sit outside and stare at the stars all night. The sky was endless, showing their sad little world the vast space that resided outside of this jail cell called a planet. The sky touched everywhere. Sometimes John liked to think about the different places the sky reached. The places that were nicer and happier than where he was. People who were outside a little house in the country, sat around a fire with their family, all looking up at the same sky John is looking at right now. Or a group of best friends sitting in the bed of a truck parked in the middle of a field. People who weren't high off their minds, people who weren't so skinny you could see their ribs, all staring at the sky.

Sometimes John thought about what would happen if he wasn't here. If he leaned over the side of the banister protecting you from falling and just let go. It was high enough to do a considerable amount of damage. He could do it, cease to exist anymore. No one would miss him. His parents haven't seen him in months, already know he's gone from their lives. Lee would probably be relieved he has one less problem to worry about. Everyone inside would be sad but they'd get over it quick enough.

Speaking of the people inside, they came into his room every night and left food on the open window sill. It was usually Hercules or Peggy, once or twice it was Eliza or Angelica, but it was never Lafayette. It's like they think seeing him will make John freak out. Which isn't the case. He’d actually rather see him. He was the one that saved him from dying on the streets, the one that brought him here, which made him realize how much damage Lee has done to him.

Alex never brought him food, but he did occasionally sit outside with him. John didn't mind. The knowledge that there was another living, breathing human being next to him kept him grounded. Made his head clear up a bit. And Alex didn't talk to him, which was also good. John wouldn't be able to deal with it. He just sits there in silence, lets John stare forward.

Right now, John is doing just that, only Alex isn't there with him. His food was behind him but he hasn't touched it. Peggy brought it, whispered something about sneaking some sweets for him. There was a stray cat next to him, sitting and looking in the same direction as him. He thought it was funny at first, because the cat stared at him for a few seconds before mimicking him. John looked behind him at what food was brought and noticed it was a tuna sandwich with a little plate of Swedish Fish next to it. Peggy probably planned that, and John cracked a smile at the cuteness of the act. He brought over both plates and looked at them, his stomach growling hungrily. Then, he glanced at the cat and noticed the hungry look in his eyes as he stared down the sandwich. John smiled at it weakly, then placed that plate in front of the feline. The cat started eating automatically and   
John sat cross legged before starting to eat the candy.

The cat came a lot after that, John always splitting his food with the equally as hungry animal. He didn't mind, it's not like he would eat it all anyway. Actually, the cat is the only reason he is eating. He doesn't know why though. He usually wouldn't eat. But, seeing the cat there changed his mind.

Tonight he was having a very bad night. He took a few too many pills and he was shaking uncontrollably. His body was hurting and his heart was hammering against his chest. The cat was nudging its head against his arm and meowing loudly, probably trying to calm down the thing that feeds him. John stood, knocking the cat back.

It was a split second decision, honestly, to move so he was sitting on the skinny railing. He actually didn't remember doing it. He can hear the cat meowing loudly. It can't possibly know what's happening.

Here's the place where you would find out what was running through John's brain, but, there's really nothing to know. His mind is finally, blissfully, empty. No thoughts about Lee, no thoughts about his state, none about the people who are sharing the sky with him.

Nothing.

Looking down it didn't seem like it was that far of a drop. They were just on the third floor. But if he fell head first then it'd work. Not only would he think nothing, he'd feel nothing. That'd be nice. He wouldn't feel the fire surging through his veins. He wouldn't feel the shaking that was so violent if he didn't end up jumping he'd probably fall off. 

He stood up.

He wasn’t very balanced, and he had to grab the ledge above him to steady himself.

He distantly heard a scream. There was chaos. Those poor people. They didn't have as clear of a mind as John doesn't right now.

There were arms wrapping against his torso, taking him down from the railing. They were calm. John felt a scream tear through him, but why? He grabbed onto the railing and held on. He didn't want to think.

The world came crashing back around him. He could hear Peggy crying and Alex whispering to him, although he couldn't quite hear what he was saying. He was still holding onto the railing and he was still screaming even though he didn't want to. Peggy's crying became quieter so someone probably took her out of the room. John's grip loosened and Alex jerked him backwards.

"Alright. You're alright." He whispered. John looked down and saw the cat looking at him. He was taken back inside but he wasn't put in his bed. He was brought to the hallway. He looked to the right and saw everyone in the kitchen looking at him.

Now he cried.

"It's okay. You're fine. You're okay." Alex kept whispering and John kept shaking his head, tears flowing down his face continuously and he didn't know when they would stop.

Next thing he knows he's on a bed. Alex is putting blankets and near the window, where there was a ledge big enough to sleep on decorated with cushions and pillows. 

“Is this your plan on how to make sure I don’t jump out of the window?” John asked. “Because I’m not gonna do it again.”

“Mhm.” Alex said, as if in disbelief.

It’s not like John was lying, though. He really wasn’t going to try and jump again. He made a mistake, yes it was a bad one but if he was in a right state of mind he never would have sat on the railing on the fire escape and he definitely wouldn’t have held on while being taken off of it. He didn’t want to die, as crazy as it sounds. Yes, he was out of hope, he lost Lee, he lost his parents, he’s living with strangers, but his mother always told him that through all the bad there’s good. She said it when his grandmother died, she said it when they went bankrupt, she said it when they had to leave their house and move into the apartment above their shop because they couldn’t afford the bills anymore. Through that he couldn’t find the good. Couldn’t even think of anything that could have been counted as good. But, then he thought, and his grandmother was in so much pain towards the end. She was John’s best friend, he didn’t want her to hurt. If they didn’t have to move into the apartment, John wouldn’t have met his friends, the two he had made when he first moved in there. The three of them became very close very fast and if he didn’t meet them he didn’t know what would’ve happened. 

So, yeah, John can find the good in this situation. If not now, maybe later.

There was a knock on the door, and it was opened to reveal Washington. He looked around the room before his eyes landed on John. He gave a soft smile and walked in, closing the door behind him. He was gonna talk. John didn’t want to talk. But, all he said was, “I’m gonna have Eliza sleep in here by the door.” Before Eliza walked in, a large amount of blankets in her arms. They started making her a make shift bed and John huffed and lied down facing the wall. 

He didn’t need babysitters.

He wasn’t gonna kill himself.

There was a silent moment where John felt the three of them looking at him, before he heard Washington breathe in through his nose. “Alright, well, goodnight.” He said before leaving.

John turned around and looked at Alex and Eliza, both of them standing by what they were going to be sleeping on. “You know this is ridiculous. If I wanted to kill myself I would’ve jumped off the ledge a lot sooner. And, if I still wanted to do it I could easily step over Eliza and go back to my room. Or, I could just take a few more pills than I usually do and overdose but I’m not going to because I don’t want to die, I just want to forget! I miss Lee, I miss him so goddamn much and it hurts because I shouldn’t and I do and I want to go back to him but I’ll probably either wind up dead anyway or back here! So please, stop acting like I’m a fragile piece of glass because I’m not going to break if your breathe in my direction and I don’t need to be guarded from Lafayette even though you all, for some reason, think that I do, I’d just rather you’d all leave me alone and I want to sit outside and get fresh air at night because the walls feel like they’re closing in on me and this is the most human interaction I’ve had in weeks and the first thing I’ve said in weeks and I just want to sleep without having to worry about you two watching me!” He yelled. He didn’t know where it came from. It’s like everything that’s been building up in him for weeks finally came out. It felt good. He lied back down. Deep down, he felt bad. He knew it was neither of their faults he was here, and it was neither of their faults that he missed Lee, and they were just trying to make sure he’s okay, but this whole thing is making his head spin. He wants to go home. To his parents. He felt tears threatening to spill, but didn’t let them until the lights turned off and Alex and Eliza were in their beds.   
He hadn’t wanted to go back to his parents so bad in months. Of course, he wanted to, they were better than what was going on right now, obviously. But right now it hurt. He was in physical pain over how much he missed them. 

He needed his pills.

They’d numb that pain.

He rolled over and looked around, his eyes already adjusted to the dark. Alex and Eliza both looked like they were sleeping. He quietly sat up, got off of the bed, walked over to the door, stepped over Eliza, opened the door, and left. That was easy. So much for keeping him safe. 

He went to his room and opened the drawer next to his bed and grabbed the bottle, put a few in his hand, and popped them in his mouth. He’d gotten pretty good at swallowing them without water.

He sat on his bed and stared at the wall. 

And then he thought something. If it had been that easy to leave the room, why doesn’t he leave the house? Who’s even awake to stop him? He stood and went into the hallway, stopping by the door that leads to the living room. He listened, and when there was no sound, he stepped into the room. He looked at the couch and saw it had been turned into a bed. Lafayette and Hercules were sleeping on it. John probably took over their room. 

He heard someone clear their throat from the kitchen. He jumped and turned around, ready to face a burglar or murderer, but it was just Washington. 

“Hello.” He said. John stood where he was. “Where are you going?” Again, John didn’t move or speak. “If you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you. I just wanted to know, how many pills did you take? Just now, in your room?” John didn’t know how Washington knew that, until he tightened his fist and noticed he was still holding the bottle.

Shit.

“Uh… 3…” He answered. 

“And they haven’t even fully kicked in yet. Where are you planning on going, though, once you’re gone? Are you gonna go into the city? Are you going to risk being caught by Lee or another worker? Are you going to your parents? You know that’s a bad idea, John. They’ll be in danger.” He said.

“I’m not stupid.” John replied. 

“Could’ve fooled me.” Why was he being so mean? “What, you think going out on your own in the middle of the night, drugged out of your mind on what’s definitely more than 3 pills is a good idea? You’re smarter than that John.” He said.

They stared at each other for a few minutes. John knew that this wasn’t the best idea, but how was Washington going to stop him? Tackle him? He probably break John, and he knew that.

“Obviously not.”

And with that, John left the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while, but I marched in the Pride March yesterday, and as I'm in too much pain to move, I figured I had some time to write this chapter.


	6. Chapter 5

This was a mistake. Honestly. John should really turn around and walk back inside, apologize and go back to sleep. But, he somehow still had one last little tiny shred of dignity left in him. Somehow. So, he marched down the stone steps leading away from the apartment and out onto the sidewalk. The cold, unforgiving, scary, dark, full-of-meth-heads sidewalk. He’s very much regretting this decision.

Something Washington said before he left stuck with John. Where was he going to go? Was he going to go to the city? He couldn’t stay here, that’s all he knows. The King’s workers are everywhere, and even though he’s dying to, he wants to so bad it hurts, he can’t go to Lee. Lee will most likely kill him before he even gets through the door. So, he started walking.

And walking.

And walking.

He walked until his feet felt like they were splitting in half and the sun was starting to rise. This is usually the time he’d crawl back into his room, hide his pill bottle and pull the shades closed so he was in blissful darkness. He’d crawl under his sheets, on his nice, warm, soft bed, and he’d sleep. He’d dream.

His dreams were usually the same. He’d be sitting at dinner with his parents, his mom to his right and his dad to his left, and then his grandmother was across from him. They’d talk. About anything. About everything. God, he missed them so much.

Two days ago he had a dream about the day he came out to his parents. He sat them down one day when he was sixteen, scared out of his mind. His parents were very conventional, the whole one man one woman types. Or, at least he thought they were. He was ready to be hit, ready to be set out on the streets. He even had a long speech in case they looked a little disgusted. But, all he got out was “I’m gay” before his brain short circuited. He was about to cry, scream, run away from home, when he heard his father say “Alright. So, pizza for dinner?” His mother held him as he cried. He never got a chance to come out to his grandmother, though. But, he figured she knew. He used to wear her dresses and pearls and dance to Backstreet Boys and The Spice Girls when he was younger. 

Thinking about that made him realize he could really go for some pizza. ~Nope. You’re fat. Sorry, kiddo, you’re gonna have to deal with some chips. Even that’s a lot, but I guess we can’t have fatty collapse on the streets can we?~

So, chips it is. 

Except, he didn’t have money. 

He had his pills in his pocket, but he wasn’t really ready to part with them just yet. He didn’t have a lot left. 

He didn’t even know where he was. The streets were getting more cars on them and there were more people walking so he figured he had to be close to the city at least. How did he beg for money? He had seen people do it before, but they usually had signs. It didn’t really look like there was a place to find a marker and cardboard though. He wished he played an instrument. 

He walked a little farther and there was a department store on the other side of the road. He could beg there. How much was a bag of chips? A lot. More than he could get in about 5 minutes. Even so, he jogged across the road when it was clear and sat in front of the store. His feet felt immediate relief. 

He sat for about 2 hours, at one point acquiring a cup and getting a few people to give him some spare change. And a condom. And some trash. 

He had 15 cents and he was just about ready to collapse when a thought popped into his head. A bad thought. A stupid thought. 

He got up, dusted himself off, pocketed his change, and entered the store. He smiled to the cashier and went to where the chips were. He thought about his shop, and Lee and the time he tried to steal from him. But there was a difference. John was hungry and had 15 cents. Lee was fed and had thousands of dollars.

There were a couple more people in the shop and John hoped that would cause a distraction as he took a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos and put them up his shirt and under his armpit, much like when he had to sneak the bottle of cough syrup around Washington all those weeks ago. He was walking towards the front of the store, and thought he was in the clear, until he heard the cashier say, “You have to pay for that.” John froze where he stood, and slowly spun around. The cashier looked to have his hand on their phone and everyone had their eyes on him. 

He started to act like he was searching for money, as if 15 cents could cover the $2.49 that the chips cost, as he thought of his escape plan. He could just give the bag back, walk out of the store with that little shred of dignity flying away and then self destruct once he’s far enough away, or he could just bolt. In the middle of debating this, some guy walked up to the counter and said, “It’s okay, I’ll cover it.” John almost leaned down and kissed his shoes. That’s weird, but come on. In addition to the stuff he was buying, he bought a stranger chips. He didn’t even have to. 

John stood there in disbelief until the guy walked past him and out of the store. “You’re lucky kid.” The cashier told him, and then John ran out of the store after the guy. Once he was on the sidewalk, he looked around for the guy, but he had disappeared in the buzz of the people on the sidewalk. John started to walk towards the overpass, where there looked to be some nice shade. He picked a spot that looked the least dirty and sat down. He opened his chips and brought up his knees to his chest. 

He was quickly regretting leaving. He actually missed it. Even though he never left his room, there was always chatter outside of it. They were always joking around with each other. They always sounded so nice to each other, and they were always laughing. He missed Alex coming out onto the fire escape to make him less lonely. He missed his cat. He also missed his pills. He didn’t really want to take any while out on the streets, because there was no telling what could happen. He could get arrested. Was it illegal to be high in public? Well, considering drugs were illegal, most likely. 

The sun was beginning to set and the biggest issue yet became very apparent to John: Where would he sleep? He could stay here propped against the pillar, but he’d been spit on twice already and sleeping here didn’t seem like a good option, because people would probably do a lot more to him than just spit on him. He could find an alley, but something told him that also wasn’t a good idea. 

Maybe he just wouldn’t sleep. How long has it been since he slept? A little over 24 hours? He could probably survive. It was getting colder, and John just had a shirt on, probably one of Lafayette’s or Alex’s, considering the clothes he went to their house in consisted of a crop top and shorts. Lee liked to look at his stomach. 

He curled into himself farther and stayed where he was. He figured if he just stayed there he’d be fine. But he’s tired. And he wants his pills. And he wants sleep. He heard footsteps coming closer to him, but figured the person would pass him. But he didn’t. The footsteps stopped in front of him, and John looked up.

It was the guy from the store. John took in his features. He was tall from where John was sitting, but from the looks of it he wasn’t extremely tall, and he held himself very straight. “Hey, you’re the kid from the shop, right?” The guy asked and held out his hand, as a gesture to help John stand up. John took it, and dusted off his clothes. He nodded in answer to the man’s question. “Do you, uh, need somewhere to sleep? Because I have an extra room. And it’s going to get really cold tonight. But, only if you want.” John contemplated   
this. It could be someone Lee sent to come and get him, but then again it may not be, and he’s so tired. 

He nodded.

He and the man walked in silence to his apartment and John was panicking the entire way there. This may have been a mistake, but then the guy opened the door to the building and led John upstairs and John followed. He’d gotten good at that. He man stopped in front of a door and took out a set of keys. The door opened. John walked inside. Lee wasn’t there.

But then another person walked out of a room. A woman, her hair pulled behind her head in a tight bun. 

“Oh, who’s this?” She asked. 

“Uh, my name’s John.” John answered her. The man stepped forward and kissed the woman on the cheek. 

“He’s gonna be with us for a little bit.” He told the woman, and then, as an afterthought, “John, this is Theodosia, and my name is Aaron.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't proofread this, so it may not be the best. Also I would've updated sooner (I know I say that a lot) but I was at a Vampire Diaries convention and I didn't have a lot of time.


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot how to write halfway through this I'm sorry.

Theodosia and Aaron are a lot nicer than John initially thought. After they introduced themselves, Theo started fussing over him, sitting him down at the table and offering every bit of food they had to him. He politely declined all of them, but she insisted on giving him a homemade brownie. She reminded John of his mother. He ate it quickly, drinking some of the milk she gave him along with the brownie. The whole time he was eating, Aaron was sitting on the couch. It was weird, and John felt like he was intuding. 

After he had finished his brownie, Theo led him to the living room and motioned for him to sit across from Aaron, while she sat next to her… boyfriend? Husband? Roommate? They never really said, and John can’t see their hands from where he’s sitting. 

“John, I need to confess something… Washington wasn’t the only person watching you when Lee first took you.” John’s stomach started to do somersaults. “No, don’t be worried. I’m not gonna start selling you. I wanted to warn you, about being out on the streets the way you were. I wasn’t just talking about me, Lee has people that work for him, not just…” Aaron stalled, looking for the right word.

“His property?” John supplied. Theo looked down at the ground, before getting up and walking into one of the back rooms. Aaron looked at John apologetically. “It’s fine. That’s what I am to him..”  
          
“Well, whatever you are to him, you were his favorite. There’s no way he’ll just let you leave like that. Now, you can stay here, but it’s very risky, too many people know where I live, and they know you were on the streets, they’ll know I took you in. You’re not gonna like this, but Washington’s is the safest place to be.” John scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I know, but it’s true. You know, he wouldn’t have mentioned me to you, but I was one of the first people he helped out. I came to him right after Lafayette, I just knew how to play my cards. I left them around the time the Schuyler Sisters showed up, and I met Theo, and I started to work against the King. I do some of the same things Washington does, but under the radar.”  
          
"The same things? Like what? Helping the lost children find homes?” John asked. He was done with this guy. He picked up John off the street and now he’s saying Washington helped him and the John should go back there? Sure, right. And he was the president.  
          
“Look, John, you don’t have to believe me, that’s fine. But, I do business with Alex. I can’t tell you what, but I’ve already called him. He’s on his way here. Now, the offer to stay here still lies, but there’s a little thing you’d have to do. It’d be like paying rent.” Aaron told him.  
          
“Oh yeah? And what would that be?” John asked.  
          
Aaron smirked. “Detoxing.” He said. John barely had time to process the word before there was a knock at the front door. Theo went over to get it, and, sure enough, Alex was standing there. He and Theo spoke, as Aaron explained more of what he meant. “If you go back, they’re just gonna make you give up on the pills too. It’s just a matter of where you want to clean your system. Keep in mind, Theo’s a nurse.” After he said this, Alex and Theo walked into the livingroom. Alex immediately walked over to John, looking him over.  
          
“Are you okay? Everyone’s going crazy.” Alex said.  
          
John rolled his eyes. Why do they have to act like they care so much? “Yeah? When I left Washington basically yelled at me, he called me stupid, is that going crazy?” John asked.  
          
Alex looked confused. “He didn’t call you stupid, I heard him. He said you’re smart enough to stay with us.”  
          
“Obviously not.” John snapped and crossed his arms. Alex looked at him for a little longer, then turned to Aaron, both of them retreating to the kitchen. After a few minutes he heard the door open and close, and Aaron came back into the living room.  
          
“You’re going to stay here, but I meant it when I said it can’t be for that long. I also meant it when I said you were gonna have to stop taking pills.” He said. John was confused. How did he even know he did drugs? Did he really look that bad? Was he ready to give Aaron his pills? He heard stories about people detoxing, it seemed horrible. Did he want to go through all that with strangers? Washington and all them were basically strangers though…  
         
Did he even have to detox? Theo probably wouldn't even let Aaron think about kicking him out. Or would she? Why was his life such a shit show? He never should've left Lee. He could deal with the clients as long as he could get some peace and quiet. Aaron held his hand out to John. Now was the moment to decide, did he want to get clean? Why would it matter, John shouldn't care. He doesn't care. The pills could kill him. He'd be free.  
          
John shakily out his hand in his pocket, his body working against his mind. He placed the bottle in Aaron's hand. Aaron pocketed them. "Where's your bathroom?"  
          
"Down that hallway and it's the first door on you right," Aaron told him. When John stood, he added, "And Theo already took all of the pills out of the medicine cabinet." John walked into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He did look bad. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his face was thin. He was also pale. Very pale. And now he felt nauseous. He quickly moved to the toilet and threw up. He heard the door open and Aaron walked in. "How long ago did you take the pills?"  
          
"Some time last night." John answered, then emptied to contents of his stomach into the toilet again.  
          
He heard Aaron chuckle. "We've got a long night ahead of us."  
\--------------  
John's body was on fire. He was lying on the floor of the bathroom, ice packs on his wrists and under his head. The room was dark, but there was dim light leaking in from the door being cracked open so they knew if he was dying. This is ridiculous. They should just give him his pills. Theo walked into the bathroom and put a water bottle on the sink, sitting on the closed toilet seat after.

"How are you feeling, hon?" She asked, her voice quiet and soft so she didn't hurt John's head.  
         
 John grunted in response, turning into his side. The ice packs on his wrists fell off , but he moved the one under his head so it stayed there.  
         
 "Yeah. It's gonna be bad for a few days. With the pills you took, it should peak in four or five days. But it'll get better as it goes on." She grabbed the water bottle and placed it in front of John's face. "Drink up. You have to stay hydrated."  
          
Theo wasn't lying, either. It's been 2 days, and John's in more pain than he's been in his entire life. They keep bringing him food, but he keeps throwing it up. Theo would come into the bathroom, as he made the floor his permanent residence, (Theo assured him it was fine that he stayed in there, as her and Aaron, who were engaged, had a bathroom in their room) and she would talk to him. Talk him through whatever was happening to his body. He couldn't even sleep, he was constantly sweating, to the point they told him to strip down to his underwear as it may be awkward but at least he was cooler, and his muscles killed him.  
          
The third day scared him the most. His heart was beating out of his chest, and he was certain he was having a heart attack, even though Theo repeatedly told him he wasn't. He also had moments where his chest would tighten, the feeling was so intense he couldn't breathe. He couldn't help but cry out loud when that happened, not being able to breathe in or out without making some sort of noise.  
         
The fourth day everything started dying down. He was shaking and he still felt extremely nauseous, but he was able to eat things like crackers and keep them down. Aaron was secretive, and he continuously left the house. John didn't question it. He felt better than he has in weeks, minus the whole death situation. His head began to clear. Not completely, but he didn't really want his pills. His body was screaming for them, but he was starting to know better. Slowly.  
          
Aaron stayed with John in the bathroom on the fifth day. John only threw up once, in the morning. He was still lying on the floor though, he formed an emotional bond with the bath mat.  
          
He was peaceful for the first time in a while. Well, he was. Then Aaron leaned down to him and said quietly, "You have to leave."  
         
 John looked at him like he had ten heads. "What?"  
         
 "There's a man. They call him Seabury. He's the King's right hand man. He knows you're staying with me and Theodosia. Not only are you in danger but she is too. And I'm sorry but I can't have that. I need you to go to Washington's, and I need you to stay there this time. I made arrangements for a ride. I'm sorry, I know you're still under a lot of things and that this withdrawal has been a bad time, but it's for your own safety." He said. "Come with me." He helped John to his feet and brought him to his and Theo's room. He gave home the clothes he got to his apartment in, but he made him get changed into long pants and a sweatshirt. "I can't walk you down, it'll look bad. If any of them see you, they'll get suspicious. Keep your hood up and your head down. There's a black Lincoln downstairs and the driver is a blond guy. He'll take you to Washington's. And, don't worry, John. We'll see each other again."


End file.
